


Guard your fortunes well

by Spylace



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Kid Fic, Merry Christmas, Nobody is Dead, and a happy New Year!, at the beginning of the film, except for the ones smaug killed, into becoming good, one where a little kid, sort of, wins over a dastardly villain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spylace/pseuds/Spylace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were so loud, I thought you a fire-drake newly hatched.”</p><p>Smaug adopts baby Kili as his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guard your fortunes well

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulgent fic. I don't know. I just wanted to see Kili interact with Smaug.

_“You were so loud, I thought you a fire-drake newly hatched.”_

Smaug laughed at the black arrows and laid waste to Dale. When he was satisfied that the mountain stronghold is free of vermin, he nested in the mountain of riches, chewing on dwarf bones. Durin’s folk were just as greedy as some of his older kin but easily dissuaded at the heat of his flames. He still rankled at the thought of being ousted from the wastes but took comfort in the leaves of gold that covered his hide. At last when his eyes slid shut for a well-deserved nap, he heard it, a pathetic mewling sound.

A growl rattled his throat as he stalked through the stone halls that stank of fear and horror. Louder and louder the cries became until at last, he squeezed his head into the open sunshine which hurt his eye. For a moment, he was blinded by the splendor and the richness of the chambers he found himself in.

Smaug wondered if the Naugrim and the Urulóki were kins once—several times removed. Their love for gold was proof enough he thought as he stared down in distaste at the little worm bawling its lungs out.

_“Your stink curdled my appetite.”_

It had been abandoned. Even he, a fire-drake, solitary and territorial, knew better than to leave a nest unattended. Yet the dwarfling had been abandoned. It reeked of its own filth and it was enough to stay his tongue from picking the tiny morsel from his teeth.

At the sight of his looming head, the babe stopped its incessant cries. It heaved from the strength of its tantrum, its screeches echoing throughout the stone. The little worm stared at him expectantly, eyes wide and open. Smaug recognized the look from when he cut through his egg with a hard tooth. It wanted to be fed; it expected it to be fed.

His scales scraped against the marble arch, scattering precious coins across the carpeted floor. Strange thing, Smaug observed—Smaug the Magnificent puzzled by the pound of flesh on its throne of gold.

_“You were draped in such finery, I thought you some pretty bauble the dwarves left behind.”_

The babe cooed at him. In the centuries following his hatching, none save his dam had dared to coo at him. Smaug growled, heat leaping from his belly as flecks of ember fell from his mouth. Yet the babe gurgled soothingly, entreating him to feed it food.

Steam trickled from his nostrils as he banked his fire. There was little enough to eat on this side of the mountains. He would not waste the effort _suckling_ the get of his enemies. But rather than swallow the little mouthful, he stared hard at the red-faced infant wrapped in laces and gold. Gently, grabbing the edge of the cradle between his teeth, he carried the babe back to his hoard. Carved across the marble post finely wrought in silver, it read Kili.

 

_“How strange.” He observes, curling his forelegs on either side of his dwarf. “That whilst you bring me lore from a thousand, you will sit content at my feet to spin the same tale over and over again.”_

_“It is because you tell it the best.”_

_Pleased, Smaug leans back, hot breath ghosting across the worm’s head._

 

Little Kili liked gold as much as he did.

Smaug let the child wriggle freely in the hoard, mindful not to let it get buried. It was such a fragile thing, a baby dwarf. Kili did not have the hide or scales to protect it from the few knives and weapons that littered the pile. He had to make a separate nest for it, away from his own. But when he turned to the brightness of his bounty, it began to fuss, craving attention.

He would not be able to sleep if he could not get it to be quiet. It was a small enough concession to make, allowing Kili to sleep next to him. Instinctively, the little worm sought the softness of his exposed flesh where an iron-wrought black arrow had bounced off his breast. Kili sighed happily and went to sleep.

 

The dwarfling grew fast.

It slept when it was tired, drank his blood when thirsty, counted his treasures when it was not. Soon it was burbling at him in an incomprehensible language he in his infinite knowledge could not decipher. It was not long before Smaug taught it proper speech and the lore of Urulóki that all dragons imparted to their brood.

Kili was insatiable. He would have been pleased had it let him sleep for more than hours at a time.

One day, his irritability and anger sent it scurrying from the hollow chambers of his nest. Unable to sleep, he reluctantly parted with his gold to look for the little worm, ~~fearful~~ , ~~anxious~~ , concerned that Kili might have come across one of its kin blackened and disfigured in death.

Instead, the dwarf found a cache of dusty books and scrolls which made Smaug sneeze. Kili begged him to teach it the funny scrawls and shapes in the worn pages, the tiny marks and dashes that made his eyes cross and head swim. Morgoth had gifted his kind with runes and slippery tongues but it was difficult to reck the minute script.

Giving up the exercise, Smaug unfurled his wings for the first time in years and left the lonely mountain. In Lake-town, people gaped and screamed at the shadow that swallowed the sun whole. Kili giggled as he dove and spiraled into loops in the air. Had the little worm wings, he would have taught it to fly as his sire had done. But Kili was a dwarf. He had no wings. Smaug let the dream pass with a touch of regret.

 Daintily landing between sticks that served as buildings, he clawed out a man from the biggest pile who blubbered and shrieked and soiled himself at the sight. Kili stared dubiously. With a shrug, Smaug threw himself back into the air.

 

The mayor of Lake-town was a competent tutor, eyeing his hoard with greed as clear as the brightly lit disk of the sun. But the human required food and water and there was no food under the mountain. At least none that Smaug was willing to offer.

With a disgruntled sigh, he raided the valleys and forests in search of game. Sometimes Kili would share the food, allowing him the much needed sleep. Kili was fascinated by his new playmate and would return only after dark.

It was only natural. Kili was growing up.

It was unbecoming of him, Smaug the magnificent, to yield to the little worm’s every whim. Still, every night he curled possessively around the child as he might an egg of his own.

But that hadn’t been enough to curb the man from his plotting. At midday, as he slumbered beneath the weight of blood-red rubies and deep-sea sapphires, the mayor lured Kili from his home with the promise of toys and sweets, a simple flask which had sat in his pockets full of rum.

Trusting, simpleminded, foolish little worm had been too easy to steal. Smaug had not thought to safeguard him from the greed of men. He had been confident in his own name. Smaug the Terrible, Smaug the Tyrannical and Kili was gone.

He let out a jet of fire and flew.

 

They had not gone very far. Kili was struggling, Kili was crying and that was unforgivable. The man held up the dwarfling like a shield, sputtering that he would dash the boy against the rocks if Smaug did not let them go.

It was an insult to him that he would care for the worm more than his gold. He was Smaug the Tremendous, a fire-drake, Urulóki descending from the proud line of Glaurung. How dare this puny human dare threaten _him_?

 

_“You killed him.”_

_“Yes” Smaug says simply. “Because he dared to take what is mine.”_

 

Kili was inconsolable. He did not cry as he feared he might. The boy remained tightlipped and bloodless, his features pale and pinched even when Smaug half-heartedly offered a part of his hoard.

“I don’t understand.” He said. “He did not hurt me. You could have let him go. T’was just a coin.”

Smaug shook his great head, showering Kili with diamonds that spangled the dwarfling’s hair with stars. “He would have returned with his children, his children’s children until the mountain was empty. You are but a worm newly-hatched. You have no teeth to guard you, no wings to bear you away and your breath is little more than moonlight next to the blazing sun.”

Kili wiped his tear against a silken sleeve, the side of his face swollen from the force of the man’s fists.

He growled, “You will learn. They do not care for you. I care for you. You are mine. You will obey.”

 

Kili resisted and he rebelled.

Smaug tore apart the entire mountain side looking for him after the little worm ran, the pitter-patter of his feet too dear to his heart to let him go. Only after he had nearly burned Lake-town to ruin, when its people cast Kili out with hands bound behind his back did he subside, content to pluck the dwarfling from the pile of fish and bring him back inside.

It was just a phase, he reassured himself. Had he not given his dam enough fits when his wings sprouted, longing to fly over the wastes?

Kili was a dwarf. A race that lived fast and died young. He worried about the simplest things. His thoughts were foreign to him. Smaug felt the wedge between them drive them further and further apart.

He wondered if this was what it had been like for his mother who had seen two clutches before him hatch and fledge.

Young drakes needed territory of their own. But Kili was too young, his chin barely stubbled.

 

_“It’s not fair.” The boy laments, rubbing the side of his face. “I’ve seen **children** with far grander whiskers than what I’ve got.”_

 

“I will not be gone long.” The worm argued, sweating from the heat of the room. In the corner Smaug smoldered, gold melting into a puddle beneath his chest. “There are things I wish to see, things I wish to learn outside!”

“You are an ungrateful little worm.” Smaug said coldly. “I took you in when your kinsmen forgot, fed you, raised you even though you were not mine. Who taught you about the outside world? How to speak, how to think? And this is how you replay me.”

The dwarfling looked sad.

“I’m sorry you think that.”

“Sorry?” Smaug chuckled. “You do not yet know the meaning. Go on. See how you will be well-received outside. The dwarves did not want you. The men spurn you. And I shan’t tell you what elves think of you.”

“I will return.” Kili promised solemnly. “I will bring back riches beyond imagining.”

Smaug turned away and slept.

 

It was a long while before a breath of fresh air visited him and his treasure hoard. Smaug raised his head sharply, claws sharpened like a spear down Scatha’s throat.

But it was not the sneaky footfalls of a thief who thought him dead and the mountain asleep. It was Kili, bright beads in his hair and light of heart at returning home. As promised, he brought finery from his travels, knowledge of crafts he bartered from masters.

Scraping some gold in the fire, Kili fashioned treasures worthy of his collection and presented them to him as a gift. There were swords with gem-incrusted hilts, crowns meant for elven lords, and sculptures enough to sate the greediest of dwarves.

“Will you not tell me of your pilgrimage?” Smaug coaxed, offering the boy a drop of blood from his tongue. “Surely you have learned many things from the outside?”

“Aye” Kili’s hand stilled and he swallowed.

Smaug raised his head, feeling something amiss.

“Adan, father. Why have you never told me this mountain is not yours?”

 

_Kili places a soothing hand over his heart when he lets out a soft moan. He feels it ring through his bones and echo in his lungs. This is the hardest part for them both. A part of him has yet to reconcile, a part of him does not care. He was the reason Kili had been left for dead but he cannot claim regret. Smaug curls his claws around the slim body, defensive, proprietary. Kili chuckles ruefully as though he is resigned. The thought nettles him badly._

 

The boy came and went like his sleep. Smaug could not blame him. In later years of the dwarfling’s childhood, he had grown snappish and rude, sulking with his head beneath his coils as Kili sang songs to amuse him and mollify his wounded pride.

Eventually, the worm gave up and presented him with gems or curious toys that entertained him for days while Kili was gone. Smaug was not an old dragon, he was still young, in his prime and wealthy beyond what his dam and broodmates could have thought for him. Yet he was dissatisfied, disgruntled when he heard the doors open and close, the sunlight cut off and the flow of air stagnant.

Smaug longed for the days when it had just been Kili and him. He curled up tighter when he heard the footsteps and stink of fish oil. But there was no one there.  

 

_“How did he do it?” Kili asks. “How could he just... disappear?”_

_“The ring” Smaug answers vaguely, recalling the tales of the nine, the seven, the three and the one. They were unnatural, a blight upon the fabric of reality. Dragons, normally averse to meddling in affairs mortal and immortal, could not resist the siren call of the potent magic and began to seek them out, smelting them against dragon fire to see them gone._

_He himself had swiftly turned from the mines of Moria where troves of gold lay untouched despite orc infestation. The ring had called to him, one of seven. He simply never left._

_“One ring to rule them all...”_

_“...One ring to find them, one ring them to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.”_

_Smaug shudders, feeling a breath of chill wash over him._

_“Adan?”_

_“Do not speak of it.” Smaug demands._

_Kili stares up at him in bewilderment._

_“It is...” He clarifies. “Evil.”_

 

Dwarves, dwarves, dwarves, little rats in the stone, thinking the gold theirs, theirs, theirs.

The dwarves had come for the Arkenstone. He might have even let them leave but for Kili wrapped in their arms, smothered in their stink. The line of Durin had come to reclaim their prodigal son. He could not allow it.

Smaug swelled in anger and opened his mouth wide, inferno spilling from the hollow of his belly. He could hear his Kili yelling as one of the Naugrim pulled him sharply down a corridor. The yellow one, very distinct for its gold color. Smaug lunged for them when light exploded between his eyes, sending him stumbling into the stone pillars of the forge.

 

_“Fili, he is my brother Fili.”_

_Smaug rolls his eyes. “Must you interrupt? Where was I? Oh yes...”_

 

He stood stock still in front of a stone goliath, eyes steady on the king-of-nothing, the king-in-exile, Thorin Oakenshield. Smaug recalled the admiration his worm held for the dwarf, the pauper-king, king-without-a-home. A warrior who could not even slay a single orc, a father with no claim to his worm.

“Adan” Kili beseeched, springing from the base of the rocks. The yellow one followed with a fluent curse, a bearded warrior who glared at him with mad-blue eyes. “Please, let them go.”

Smaug swung his head back and forth.

“They are thieves, liars, and they will seek to kill us.”

“No!” The yellow one cut him off harshly. “Just you, you fat, greedy worm.”

Kili shoved at him and the other dwarf looked hurt.

“Adan” the boy repeated. “This is their _home_.”

Smoke drifted from his mouth.

“You came here for a noble cause, a just cause.”

“ _Kili_!” Thorin rumbled, his eyes steady on his own. “Smaug is a dragon, you cannot reason with him.”

“He saved my life.”

“You would not have needed saving if it weren’t for him!”

Kili stepped forward, the yellow one clinging to his back. He realized now that his child was much taller than an average dwarf, close to the size of a man. “Please, leave them their home.”

“I am to give up everything then?” He asked sarcastically. “My home, my treasure... my _son_?”

The dwarves collectively drew in a sharp breath.

Kili shook his head.

“I am with you. I will be your one. Let us find a new place together.”

 

_“Did you mean it?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“When you told them...  I was your son. Did you mean it?”_

 

“No Kili, _Kili_ , you cannot be serious. I’ve just found you, I found you, mother will never believe... Kili, Kili!”

Smaug easily separated the two. Curling a talon around the boy, he asked uncharacteristically “you are sure?”

In a choked voice Kili said “Yes”

 

_“Are you not my son?” Smaug asks, scars stretching as he lays his head down. “Are you not the son of my heart, my blood and my songs?”_

 

“They call me Kili Fireborn.” Kili said ruefully, offering Smaug the mule he had taken from the valley. “One of the apprentices accidentally knocked a brand against my arm but it did not so much as sting me.”

“A worthy name.” Smaug said, licking the drops of blood from his lips. “Dragonborn would be better.”

 

_“I am your son.” Kili prays. “I am forever your son in the stone.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I changed my profile picture. Now I will forever see a cake at the corner of AO3
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone.


End file.
